


Dream a Little Dream

by borrowedeck



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, Gang Rape, M/M, Multi, Non-con occurs in dream, PWP, Public Humiliation, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:50:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedeck/pseuds/borrowedeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has a nightmare in which he receives the unwanted attention of a large crowd of people. Garrett Jacob Hobbs directs.</p><p>Written for Hannibal kinkmeme prompt: http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/2246.html?thread=3520710#cmt3520710</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a Little Dream

Will dreams.

He’s standing facing Garrett Jacob Hobbs and Abigail. They’re in the center of a large open room in a crowded shopping mall; the rustling of shopping bags and shuffling of shoes provides a dull background roar. The light is clear and white and comes from no apparent source.

Hobbs is dead. Will killed him, and the bullet holes show bloody on his shirt, but he stands opposite Will with his hand on Abigail’s shoulder, and he sees Will. His milky eyes seem to glow in the soft light of the room. “See?” he says, smiling. “See?”

Someone’s arm brushes past Will’s back and he turns slightly to look around the gray, shadowless room. The storefronts are blank and empty, but people hurry past with their crinkling plastic bags from one door to another, never stopping. They are all alone; no one speaks to anyone else or even looks at them. Were it not for the Hobbs’ stares, it would be like a living Hopper painting. Will approves. The lack of social interaction is calming, despite the bustle.

Another person’s shoulder bumps into Will’s, and he turns back around. Something’s changed. Hobbs is still smiling, but Abigail’s expression has changed from stony indifference to apprehension. Her eyes flick around the room, and Will realizes that as he looks at the shoppers, they are starting to look back at him. The glances get more numerous and intense even as he thinks it, and he can feel the room start to shrink as the people come towards him.

It’s useless to try to ignore them. They come closer and start to brush up past him, and as he jerks away from each in turn, he realizes that they are people he knows, cops from back in New Orleans, veterinary staff, his high school classmates. They brush past him just near enough to touch him lightly, seeing him as he sees them, knowing him. Will’s breath catches in his throat, and he fights back panic.

Hobbs is watching him struggle to control himself. He leaves Abigail’s side and goes to Will, reaching out his hand. The short, blunt fingernail digs into Will’s throat and is dragged across slowly, mirroring the wound on Abigail’s throat, the wound Will has dreamed of creating himself. Hobbs steps back.

It’s like a signal. Suddenly the passersby aren’t just brushing up against Will anymore, they’re grabbing him. Hands come from all sides to stroke his arms and his face, grabbing his shirt and pants in tight fists. The hands holding his clothing pull, hard, as even more hands come in to grasp at him. Buttons pop and cloth rips, and he’s being forcibly stripped by the multitude of angry fingers, the faces of all the people who’ve ever taunted him, laughed at him, hurt him, now staring at him intently, hungrily.

It doesn’t stop when he’s naked. Finding nothing more to tear, now the hands grope at him, some digging in with their nails and leaving trails of blood, the rest just leaving the stain of sick shame. They’re all over him, in his hair, on his neck, running across his chest and back. Fingers trail up the insides of his bare thighs, squeezing his balls and stroking along his cock. More hands grasp his ass, spreading it, and he can feel a thick finger entering him, two, then three thrusting in, violating him painfully. He tries to swat the hands away, but there are always more and more, and he can’t stop them, stuck in the press of so many bodies. 

A couple of the closer ones press up against his sides, and he can feel their erections jutting into his hipbones as they grind against him. He looks to the right and recognizes Dr. Chilton, who drags Will’s head back by his hair and licks a long stripe up Will’s neck and face, marking him with slimy saliva. On the left is Dr. Gideon, who forces three fingers into Will’s mouth and holds him by his mandible as he bites into Will’s cheek, leaving a large bruise. Tongues start to swipe at Will’s cock; some of the crowd must have knelt in front of Will while his face was forced away. Several mouths close on him, licking and sucking and nipping, and despite his horror and shame, Will finds himself growing hard. He can’t tell if the wetness on his face is only Chilton and Gideon’s saliva, or if he’s crying.

During all this Hobbs and Abigail have been standing and watching, untouched by the fray. Now Hobbs comes forward, and the crowd parts in front of him like water. He takes a place behind Will’s left shoulder and puts his hand on the back of Will’s neck, squeezing. Will can tell Hobbs’ hand from the others that are still groping him because it burns hot and painful. 

Hobbs’ beckons Abigail forward and she comes, gracefully stripping off her simple shirt and bra as she walks. The scarf comes off with them, and she is exposed, the angry red scar marking her neck clearly visible above the rise of her small breasts. It is either cold or she is aroused; her nipples are flushed and hard. She takes Will’s right hand in her own and presses it onto her breast. Her eyelids flutter, and her eyes roll upwards towards the ceiling as if she’s praying.

Hobbs takes Will’s left hand and brings it to Hobbs’ erection, forcing him to stroke it. With the constant, intense stimulation he is receiving, Will is about ready to come. Hobbs seems like he is almost there too just from watching it, his cock hard and dripping in Will’s reluctant hand. As a burst of unwanted pleasure rips through Will, Hobbs brings his lips close to Will’s ear.

“See?” he whispers as he comes into Will’s hand. “See?”

The hands grasping Will loosen slightly, though still groping and fucking him at a more leisurely pace. He takes advantage of the slight reprieve to turn and face Hobbs.

The man on his left shoulder, whose limp cock is still in Will’s hand, is not Garrett Jacob Hobbs. 

Will wakes, sweating and shaking, still horrified by the image of Hannibal’s small, satisfied smile.


End file.
